


I Have Miles To Go Before I Sleep

by tovlouses



Series: Say Goodbye If You've Got Someone To Say Goodbye To [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 4k, Angst, Divorce, F/M, Fluff, It sucks I'm sorry, M/M, One-Shot, Sort of AU, bottom!Louis, cheesy ending i'm sorry, ends as otp, im sorry, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of self harm, some smut at the end, starts as notp, very little tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tovlouses/pseuds/tovlouses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months. Five long and antagonizing months of searching and coming up empty. Five months of going from country to country trying to find any trace of Harry. Of course, it was turning out to be impossible to find Harry, just as he wished. But for Louis, it was just a haunting reminder of how he had messed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Miles To Go Before I Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> So this sucks, I'm sorry. This makes much more sense to read the first part. I had comments wanting me to finish it, so I rushed the middle and end so I could post it tonight. I promise to revise this whenever I have time, and make it longer and better. Please be patient.

Five months. Five long and antagonizing months of searching and coming up empty. Five months of going from country to country trying to find any trace of Harry. Of course, it was turning out to be impossible to find Harry, just as he wished. But for Louis, it was just a haunting reminder of how he had messed up.

 

\-------------------

 

When Louis first found the letter, he stayed holed up in Harry’s apartment for two days hoping the younger would come back, say it was all just a cruel joke. But that didn’t happen, and at the beginning of the third day he knew he had to at least try to fix this. He had to try and find Harry and make it up to him. Granted he knew the odds of finding Harry were slim to none, and the odds of Harry actually forgiving him was less than one percent.

But, he still had to try. So, that morning he went back to his place and almost had to slap himself when he saw Eleanor’s things scattered around the house. Because, yeah, he was married. And the pregnancy thing turned out to be nothing but a scare. He wasn’t the type of man to just up and leave, and he honestly wouldn’t be happy with himself for breaking yet another heart, but things had to be done. Harry was his number one priority right now. So he packed up most of this clothes, absolute necessities, and his respective money. And before he left, he carefully placed his wedding ring on his side of the bed, right above the signed divorce papers. He mentally prepared himself for a lot of angry calls when Eleanor got home from her business trip.

Then, he was off.

 

\-------------------

 

Louis was lost for the first day, not knowing where to go and aimlessly driving in hopes of Harry magically popping up out of nowhere. And when that didn’t happen, he found himself only half an hour away from Anne’s house. And although he is probably (most definitely) the last person she would want to see, he felt desperate. Desperate enough to go back to the house he was banned from (Anne wasn’t too happy when Louis proposed to Eleanor) (Even less happy when they actually got married).

So, thirty minutes later, he was trudging up the walkway to Annes’ house with his hands stuffed in his pockets and nerves flittering in his stomach. The arch over the doorway remained the same as it was when he and Harry used to visit years ago. The porch was still concrete, and the door is still the same mahogany wood, and it gives him a feeling of comfort. It gives him relief in knowing that some things haven’t changed, and maybe Harry’s feelings towards him haven’t completely vanished.

He must have been standing outside of the door for a while, because suddenly the door was being opened and Anne was talking.

“Why are you just stan-” A light gasp fell into the air, and an awkward silence hung heavy. Louis peered up slowly from where he was staring at his shoes to look at Anne, whose expression was a mixture of shock and anger.

“Anne,” he took a shaky breath, blinked a few times, and then started again. “Anne, I need your help.”

“Why should I help you. I’m still angry with you, you know. You have no right to be here.” Her tone was cold and distant, but also thick with tears and emotion. He really couldn’t blame her.

“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. But I’ve messed up terribly and I didn’t know where else to go.” Louis wants to start crying right about now, the reality of the whole situation seemed to just now dawn on him.

“And you’re just now realizing this? You messed up four years ago when you married.. her. It should have been my son, but it wasn’t. And now you want me to help you mend things?” She’s staring him down with an almost evil look in her eye, and a hint of desperate hope. Of course she wanted things to work out between Harry and Louis, but she cares too much about her son’s well being.

Louis sighed dejectedly and nodded, reaching up to wipe away one of his tears before whispering back, “Anne, I love your son. And I admit that I was a complete ass, and the biggest jerk on the planet for hurting Harry. But I was scared, I was young and so afraid of being rejected by the world that I took the easy way out. And in that process I hurt the only person I really and truly care about. Please, Anne. If you have any idea of where Harry might be, please tell me. I need to make things right.”

It’s silent for a long moment, Anne is going over thoughts in her head while Louis is staring at the floor again, silently crying. And finally, when Louis is just about to give up, Anne nods.

“I don’t know where he is, he wouldn’t tell me because he was afraid you would try to contact him. But he gave me his number, and writes me periodically with no return address. But the most recent letter said he was in Jamaica. Lucea, Jamaica. That was a week ago.” She looks almost regretful as she says it, her head hung partially low. But her sympathy is there nonetheless.

Louis’ eyes shine bright with hope, and his hope has drastically increased. “Th-Thank you so much. I promise, I will fix things.” He’s smiling hard, his cheeks are starting to hurt by the time Anne goes in her house and returns with a slip of paper, a phone number and address written on it.

And as Louis leaves, Anne is quick to grab his arm. “Don’t mess it up this time, Louis.” She murmurs, let’s his arm go and then returns quietly into her house. Louis, however, can’t keep the tears at bay for much longer. So as soon as he is in his car, he cries. He cries and cries until he feels like he doesn’t have any water left in his system.

 

\-------------------

 

It’s nearing seven in the afternoon when he gets his first call, and it’s from Eleanor. Of course it is.

“Hello?” His voice is slightly shaky from nerves, he really doesn’t want to deal with Eleanor right now, but it has to be done sooner or later.

“What the fuck is this, Louis! Why are there divorce papers on the table and why are most of your things gone?” Her voice is loud and angry, but he can hear how she’s crying and in pain. And that hurts him, because he broke someone else's heart when he promised himself he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t live a lie anymore… I need Harry.” He hangs up, turns off his phone so he won’t get anymore calls, and drives off to the nearest airport, five hours away.

 

\-------------------

 

Things don’t get easier from there, in fact, they get harder. Jamaica was a bust, he’d talked to some of the locals and once they found out who he was, they wouldn’t tell him a single thing about where Harry was. So, Harry had been there, but it seemed almost impossible to get anyone to open up to him and tell him anything.

He spends at least a month there, some days are filled with him lookinglookinglooking. Constantly looking left and right, over his shoulder, for any sign of those curls he loves so much. Looking for any sign of skinny jeans and flannels open wide, alongside a dimpled grin. He asks anyone he can about where Harry is. Asking, yelling, demanding to know something, anything.Other days are filled with him laying in bed, sometimes he cries, and other times he just contemplates giving up. He is desperate to find someone, anyone who has seen Harry.

The last day he’s in Jamaica, he’s woken up early in the morning by one of his neighbors at the motel he’s staying at. He’s knocking (banging, more like it) at his door for thirty seconds straight until Louis is stumbling to the door and opening it.

“What?”

“Your boy, Harry - the one you’ve been looking for? He left two days ago. Guess he found out you were here and freaked, but he’s gone now. My friend, he owns a motel a few miles from here, said the boy was going to California or something. I didn’t think I should tell you, but you seem desperate.” His neighbor, a middle-aged man with tired, wild eyes, holds out a piece of paper that reads a Californian address. The man seems nice enough, honest and kind, so Louis takes the paper without a moments hesitation.

That’s the first month, though. The second, is even worse.

 

\-------------------

 

To put it simply, this whole situation is like a game of Cat and Mouse. When he got to California, he spent a few days driving and giving himself a crick in his neck from looking left and right out his windows.

On a wednesday, he can swear he sees Harry. He’s walking down the street, into some cute little cafe in the middle of a stripmall. Louis gets out of his car as soon as he parks it, and runs inside the cafe. He’s excited, blood thrumming through his veins and a smile plastered on his face he is sure is more than a bit creepy. His happiness only lasts a moment, though, because sitting at a table in the far back of the cafe is Harry. But he’s with someone. He’s smiling and laughing like everything is fine, he is even holding hands with the guy. And when the stranger turns his face to look up at the waiter, Louis can tell who it is. And it makes him sick to his stomach, makes him want to cry and scream and vomit because Harry, his Harry, is holding hands with Nick Fucking Grimshaw.

He leaves after that, choosing to stay in California for two more weeks because he doesn’t want to leave when he knows his love is there. But finally, pain becomes too much that he goes to LAX and takes a flight back to London.

And he doesn't realize that Harry is waiting about twenty feet over. Waiting to get on the same plane to go back to the same place.

\-------------------

 

Nothing is fine, Louis has broken almost everyone he has come in contact with (Harry, Eleanor, his mum and sisters won’t even talk to him that much, and the other boys won’t so much as spare a glance at him when they pass on the street or see each other in Tesco’s), including himself.

So the third and fourth month after he found the letter, he stays in Stans house, crying and staring off into space. Basically, just living. Just being. He doesn’t know what to do and he feels like dying would be the better way out, feels like taking his life would be better than this hell he lives in.

So Stan and his lovely wife let him stay in the guest bedroom, and don’t give him the message Harry leaves them telling him to stop looking, to just give up. They’re doing the right thing, that’s what they convince themselves.

\-------------------

 

Now, it’s the beginning of the fifth month since everything went to hell. He’s in his (Stan’s) room, laying on the bed and admiring (read: trying not to cry for the 100th time that week) when his phone buzzes. Normally, he would just ignore it. He gets twitter notifications from fans or updates on certain people (Harry more importantly) frequently, so his phone buzzing isn’t anything out of the ordinary. But, he doesn’t have anything else to do today other than stare up at Stan’s ceiling, so he indulges himself a bit, and picks up his phone with a light sigh.

Although, it isn’t twitter, or an email. It’s a text. From Anne. Which is unusual in itself, but the context is what throws him off.

**Family dinner at 17:45 . Harry should be here. Don’t let him know I told you**

He knows it’s not a direct invitation, just Anne letting him know what’s going on. But he feels something akin to hope settle in his stomach as he reads and rereads the text.

\-------------------

 

Stan drives him to Annes house. Louis protested and yelled that he wasn’t going because he didn’t want to be rejected in front of everyone and be made a fool of. But Martha (Stan’s wife who still had yet to learn the whole truth of everything) crushed up half of one of her sleeping pills and slipped it into his tea. He’s now passed out in the passenger seat of Stan’s car, forty minutes away from Annes house.

Ten minutes from Annes house, Louis stirs in his seat, groaning and ready to start bitching about how his neck is sore. But he stops once he realizes where he is. He knows these streets and those trees and the park they just passed is only a few minutes from Annes house and suddenly he wants to turn around. He wants to go because Harry’s going to be at Annes house with Nick and they’re going to kiss and look like the happy couple Nick always wanted them to be. But, he needs to see him. He needs to see Harry one last time before he accepts his fate and lets sadness swallow him while everyone else lives their life without the heartache he’s feeling.

Time goes by fast and soon enough, Stan is pushing him out the doorway and he’s found himself in front of Annes doorway, again. Only this time, it’s Gemma who opens up the door, and she gives him a sympathetic look (it’s cold, but the sympathy is there nonetheless) and steps to the side to let him through. She doesn’t say anything, just nods in the direction of the living room and waits for him to step inside before shutting the door and returning to the dining room to set plates.

He walks through the hall slowly, dragging his sock clad feet (he still hates them, but Eleanor insisted she hated the way his feet stank when he didn’t wear them) on the tile until he steps into the living room. The one and only Harry Styles sits on the couch, Des and Robin sit on either side of him with their eyes trained on the tv, a football game is on but he knows Harry isn’t watching. He never was a big fan of sports.

He coughs awkwardly, and Des and Robin don’t even look up, just hum in acknowledgment. Harry actually looks up and glares when he does.

“What are you doing here?” It pains Louis to hear Harry’s voice, it’s deep and gravelly, like he’s been crying recently.

“I really need to talk to you. I know you hate me and I understand that you probably want to kill me, but I have something important to say. So please, can we go out back and talk.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but Robin looks up at him expectantly and Anne and Gemma both gesture towards the back door so he turns around and goes out the door without a word. Louis sighs gratefully, but carefully steps around Robin and Des (who are staring at him like he’s nothing better than scum) and goes out the door after Harry.

“What do you want? Did Eleanor finally realize how much of a jerk you are and leave you?” Harry asks once the door is shut and they are facing each other. Harry is towering over him.

“No, I left her. I left her as soon as I found your note, which was about a month or so after you left it. I fucked up terribly and I need you to know how much I love you because I have spent the last four and a half years lost and confused without you.” Tears are pooling in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry but he can’t help it. Harry just looks so damn gorgeous.

“So you just now realized that you fucked up? You fucked up when you brought Eleanor into our lives. You broke me, and left me to deal with everything while you went off and had a life with someone else. Oh, how is the baby by the way?” It’s a rhetorical question, but it still burns.

“There’s no baby. It was just a scare.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better. So now I know that it was just a scare you can go back to her. You can go back and live your perfect life with her when it should have been me!” It seems that Harry doesn’t really care how loud he’s shouting, because everyone in the house right behind them are looking out the window curiously.

“I was scared okay!” He shouts. His fists are balled up in anger and he lets the tears fall down his face. “I was scared of being rejected by the world, by my family. They pushed me to date her, they threatened to disown me as their son if I came out with you and I desperately wanted their approval so I married Eleanor and hurt you and I hate myself everyday for that. I hate myself so much because I can’t seem to do anything right. You hate me, Eleanor does, Zayn, Niall, and Liam hate me. My family won’t talk to me since I left Eleanor and your family hates me. I have no one so i’m sorry that I came here, but I just wanted to make things right. But you have Nick to make you happy now, you don’t need me. Hell you probably never did. You deserve to know the truth, so now that you do, I’ll be going.” And that was that. Louis stormed through the house, tears still streaming down his face, and left without a word to anyone else.

\-------------------

 

He goes back to his house in London, Eleanor decided to live with one of her friends in Manchester so she left him the house in the divorce. She made sure to trash the place though, before she left. He doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t blame anyone except himself for everything that’s happened.

It’s three weeks before he gets a text. It’s from an unknown number, but a part of him knows who it is.

**529 HillCrest road, London . at 12:30 2morrow .x**

He’s very well aware that it’s probably an axe murder luring him to this house, but he doesn’t have anything else to lose. So, the next morning he drags himself out of his bed and actually showers and actually gets dressed. He only gets ready to the point where he doesn’t look like a zombie, but the bags under his eyes and the way his skin has shrunk in is still noticeable. He spends a solid half hour standing in front of the mirror. He hasn’t shaved in about a week, so his stubble is growing to almost a beard, and his cheeks sink in and his collarbones are more prominent than what look healthy. He hasn’t eaten a good meal in a while, so it doesn’t surprise him that his hips poke out a little, or that he can wrap hi thumb and pointer finger around his wrist no problem. The scars on his thighs aren’t healing either, still looking fresh like he just now put down the blade.

It scares him, though. Because if this is what dying is then he would much rather be with Harry when it happened, not alone in some too-big house drowning himself in his sorrows.

He goes, he leaves the house ten minutes later at 12:20 and spends a good five minutes walking slowly down the street to the house at which he was directed. He spends another four walking up the steps of the house and waiting outside, deciding on what to do. Another two minutes pass, he wants to turn around and forget the whole thing, but he gets a text  from the same number telling him to come in. Stalker, okay then.

“Hello?” He asks into the open air when he walks in, carefully shutting the door behind him. He toes off his shoes by the front door and when he looks up, Harry is standing there, frown etched on his face.

“Don’t you fucking think for a second that I never needed you. You were the one person I needed most in my life, but you left me. So don’t be mad that I ran to Nick.” Is what he’s greeted with. Harry turns, and heads off down the hall, to the living room probably.

Louis follows close behind, making sure not to raise his voice too loud. “Why do you want me here? You said it yourself that I’m a jerk. I fucked up and ruined your life so why do you want me around anymore? Just let me go back to my house and not bother you for the rest of your life because I know you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you!” Harry booms, throwing his hands up in the air. “I never hated you even when you went off and married her. Sure, I was pissed at you. But I never stopped loving you.” His breathing is heavy as he steps forward into Louis’ personal space. “You had no right to come into my life again only to tell me you’re going to leave.”

“So. What? You want me to stay? I can’t”

“And why not! Why is it so hard for you to stay loyal to someone?” Harry pushes him back up against the wall, breath fanning over his face.

“Because.. In your letter you told me I broke you. It’s better for me to leave and never return. I’m sorry for coming after you when I shouldn’t have and breaking you even more..” Louis gulps, and closes his eyes and wills himself not to vomit at what he’s about to say. “You’ll be happier with Nick, I shouldn’t have intruded on you guys’ lives.”

Harry just chuckles, shakes his head and chuckles. “We’re not together. I saw you that day in California and I just wanted to make you jealous. Nick had no problem participating but once I saw you were gone I left and wouldn’t speak to him for a week… Anytime I would get close enough to someone to date them, I can’t. Because I always feel like i’m cheating on you, betraying you somehow even though you betrayed me long ago.”

And it’s like a breath of fresh air when he hears it. But he still knows things aren’t fixed. “So what do we do now? I want to be with you, I do. But I’m no good. I treated you terribly and I’m so damaged inside that no amount of anything can fix me.” But he reaches up carefully and places his palm lightly on Harry’s cheek, revels in the way Harry sighs almost in relief at the contact.

“We can work on things, I just want you.” Harry leans down to rest his forehead on Louis’, and leans in just a touch so their lips brush against each others.

And they do work on things. Harry learns to move past what happened, and Louis learns that he doesn’t always break everyone. He starts eating more and stops turning to his blade every time he feels an ounce of pain. And when they make love again for the first time in what seems like forever, they cry. Tears of joy, some of pain on Louis' part. But, it's worth it. Every time Harry moves above him, thrusts inton him, he feels love pouring out of every inch of their bodies and they cry together for a long while even after they are finished

Over time, they mend each other. They learn not to break so easily and that some things can be fixed. Louis’ family still don’t talk to him, but he doesn’t mind. He has Harry, someone who he knows will always be there for him.

 


End file.
